


Messy

by Eggling



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Gen, domestic tardis family fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 10:08:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13611147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eggling/pseuds/Eggling
Summary: Life on board the TARDIS doesn't always live up to Zoe's expectations.





	Messy

“What on earth happened here?”

The sound of Zoe’s voice made Jamie jump, and he whirled around to face her, hurriedly concealing a mess of bowls and jars behind his back. “Hello, Zoe. We were just… erm...”

“Making a mess?” Zoe supplied, raising her eyebrows.

Jamie glanced around at the kitchen. It was hardly as bad as Zoe was implying, he thought. He had seen it in worse shapes than this. Something on the stove was bubbling over, true, and a thin dusting of flower seemed to lie over everything – himself included – but it was nothing they could not fix. “Making lunch,” he corrected her.

He shrank away under Zoe’s cutting glare. “Where’s the Doctor?” she asked. “Does he know you’ve done this?”

“Oh, dear,” came the muffled voice of the Doctor, as if on cue. “I’m afraid it’s not down here, Jamie – ouch!” Grinning apologetically at Zoe, Jamie bent down to pull the Doctor out from one of the cupboards beneath the benchtop. He emerged from the cupboard rather gracelessly, sitting down heavily and rubbing at his head. A few loose cans and bottles followed him out, rolling across the floor. “Oh dear.”

“He’s trying tae find some special salt,” Jamie explained.

“Ooxlob salt,” the Doctor said. “The best in the three galaxies.” He grasped at Jamie’s arm, and managed to lever himself to his feet. “Oh! Zoe, I didn’t hear you come in. Come to help, have you?”

Zoe sighed. “You know, I thought joining you two would mean _intellectually stimulating adventures_. Not...” She cast another despairing look over the state of the kitchen. “This.”

“We can explain, you know,” the Doctor said hastily. “Jamie and I were just making -”

“Lunch,” Zoe said. “Jamie told me.”

“I’d been reorganising some books in the library,” the Doctor continued, “and I came across an old recipe book I’d quite forgotten about, and asked Jamie if he’d like to try it, but – ah – the instructions weren’t quite as clear as they could’ve been.”

Zoe’s expression remained disapproving. “So it’s really all the book’s fault?”

“Yes, you could say that,” the Doctor said.

“It’s nothing we can’t fix,” Jamie added.

“Why the food machine isn’t good enough for the pair of you, I’ll never know,” Zoe said. “Well, I think you’re lucky the TARDIS has automatic cleaning capabilities. I’ll be in the library if you need me.”

“Automatic cleaning capabilities?” Jamie echoed as Zoe left. “Hey – Doctor – why haven’t we been using that all along?”

“It’s – ah...” The boiling pot managed to tip its lid off, and the Doctor hurried over to turn the stove down, carefully avoiding meeting Jamie’s eyes. “It’s broken.”

The corridor outside fell silent. Slowly, Zoe’s footsteps turned back towards the kitchen, and she pushed the door open again. “It’s _what_?”

“It broke,” the Doctor said cheerfully. “Years ago. It’s quite alright, Jamie and I are more than capable of -”

“You’re planning on cleaning up this mess… by hand?” Zoe looked as if the concept had never occurred to her.

“We’ve been cleaning up by hand for years,” the Doctor said. Lifting the lid of the pot before him, he frowned down at the thick, sludgy contents. “Dear me. I don’t think this is going to work without the salt. Earth salt just isn’t the same, you know.”

“Zoe could help us clean up,” Jamie suggested. He grinned. “She might even learn something.”

To his satisfaction, Zoe pulled a face of disgust, but the Doctor nodded eagerly. “You did say you wanted intellectually stimulating adventures, Zoe,” he said. “You won’t find everything in the library.”

“I don’t see what’s intellectually stimulating about cleaning,” Zoe said. She made as if to leave the room, but paused, turning back before she could grab the door handle. “If I help you now, will you promise never to involve me in your cooking again?”

“Can’t promise that,” Jamie said, still grinning. “Anyway, ye might enjoy it.”

“I’ll let you lick the spoon,” the Doctor added.


End file.
